For Safekeeping
by HecateA
Summary: Seamus hasn't quite put together just how devastating the consequences of Dumbledore's death will be, and Dean has some difficult news to break about their senior year. Oneshot.


**Author's Note: **Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Warnings: **

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**Stacked with: **Sky's the Limit; Flouting Regulations; Remains of War

**Individual Challenge(s): **Gryffindor MC (x2); Seed; Tissue Warning; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Trope It Up A (Best Friends to Lovers); Shipmas; Themes and Things A (Love); Themes and Things B (Protection); Themes and Things C (Painting/Drawing); Ethnic and Present; Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Flags and Ribbons (Y); In a Flash

**Bonus Challenge(s): **Chorus (Tomorrow's Shade)

**Tertiary Bonus Challenge(s): **NA

**Word Count: **651

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_**Shipping Wars**_

**Ship (Team): **Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnegan

**List (Prompt): **Medium 1 (Writer/Artist)

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**For Safekeeping **

Seamus sat down on the other end of the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room and pulled his legs up close to his chest, leaning his head against the sofa's back. He gave Dean a minute before extending his foot and poking him.

"Sorry," Dean said, shaken out of his thoughts.

"It's okay," Seamus said. "Are you alright?"

Dean nodded and swallowed hard. "I'm glad that you talked your mum into letting you stay longer..."

"Me too," Seamus said. He chewed his lip. He desperately wanted to lean in and kiss Dean, bury his face in his chest, take in his smell—but something was hanging over Dean. Something that kept Seamus at a distance.

"What are you drawing?" Seamus asked to change the subject, nudging his head towards the sketchbook in Dean's hands.

"Nothing," Dean said. "I want to, but nothing's coming. Can I draw you?"

"Always," Seamus said. "How should I pose?"

"Just like that," Dean said. "Just like you're you."

"You want to immortalize _that?" _

"Just do it," Dean said, shifting to face him.

They were quiet for a while. Dean had gotten quite good at drawing him—the broad strokes and quick lines and tiny details all seemed to come easily to him. Every now and then his eyes flitted up from the creamy paper before him to look at Seamus, making his heart skip a beat as those hazel eyes darted to and fro.

Dean sighed and leaned back, sinking into the cushions, finally. He flipped over the sketchbook to show Seamus.

"Beautiful," Seamus said. "You're so, so, good Dean."

"Yeah," Dean said. Then he did something Seamus had never seen him do before; tear the page out of the book and pass it over to Seamus. "You should keep this."

"Why?" Seamus asked. Dean still looked grave; his mood hadn't lifted or changed at all.

"This might be the last time I draw you in a while," Dean said, his lip shaking.

"Dean, talk to me," Seamus said, stretching up towards him and putting a hand on Dean's knee. "What's going on?"

Dean took a deep breath.

"I'm not coming back to Hogwarts next year," Dean said.

Seamus' blood froze.

"What?"

"I'm not," Dean said. "Shay, most Muggleborns aren't. With Dumbledore gone, who knows what's going to happen and what they'll have to think and say. The general consensus is that the castle won't be safe."

Seamus swallowed hard.

"If it won't be safe, you can't stay," he nodded. "You have to go somewhere else. Be safe. But where?"

Dean chewed his lip. "I don't know. I… I've got to think about it. I'll see what the others are doing."

"Okay," Seamus said. He took a deep breath. "Once you've figured it out, don't tell me."

"What?" Dean asked. It was his turn to look shocked.

"You _can't _tell me," Seamus said. "I wish I could, but if you and the other Muggleborns are right about how bad the castle's going to get, they'd go looking for you. My aunt—she worked for _The Prophet _last time You-Know-Who got really powerful. Said they were overflowing with missing persons announcements and obituaries the whole time. If I don't know I… I'll be able to keep you safe."

Dean looked at him, shocked. But he didn't disagree. It was as if the blood in Seamus' veins was cooling, becoming ice water.

"Not because I don't care," Seamus said. "Not because I won't wonder and hurt and worry about you everyday. But just in case."

Dean looked at him, his mouth one straight line.

"I don't like it," Dean said. "But I get it."

Seamus folded up the drawing and leaned in closer. As he kissed Dean, he slipped the drawing in his breast pocket.

"I'll do all I can to keep you safe," Seamus said. "And you keep this for safekeeping."

Dean's hand rested over his heart and the picture.


End file.
